Uprising
by It's The Fear
Summary: Zoey didn't start the zombie apocalypse with the comfort of Bill, Francis, and Louis by her side. One by one, she had to find them, the only men she would ever trust with her life. And it all started with an unlikely hero.
1. It all Started with a Gunshot

**This is my first L4D story. I've been playing the game nonstop for the past month or so, and have completely fell in love with everything about it. I absolutely gush at the pairing of Zoey and Francis, especially because they seem like such an unlikely couple. After reading some amazing stories on here of the pair, I decided to try and write my own. So here goes.**

**I've used most of this chapter from Valve's comic, The Sacrifice. I wanted to give the story an authentic back story, especially of where the characters came from, so I used their idea.**

**I look forward to your reviews. Enjoy!

* * *

  
**

This had to be a joke. This had to be some elaborate prank that someone was playing on her. There was absolutely no way that this was actually happening.

Zoey clutched her baseball bat tightly in her shaky hands. Her sweaty palms were making it nearly impossible for her to keep a steady grip on it, but she did her best. She had to. The only other option was death. And that was not an option she was all that fond of.

Prying one hand free from the bat, she pushed loose strands of hair out of her vision. Her wide eyes scanned the area frantically, searching for any type of movement. There was none.

Normally, she would deem that a good sign and move on. If there was nothing moving out there, that meant there were no zombies trying to gnaw her face off. Unfortunately, the eerie silence was also a bad thing. It meant there were no other survivors around.

_I can't be the last one alive. There's no way._

She tried to reassure herself of others, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. She had been on her own, struggling to survive in a city overrun by the undead, for two days now. And God damnit, she was doing a good job.

_Yeah, who would've guessed all those horror movies would actually come in handy?_

It was nothing short of a miracle that she was actually alive. Someone was definitely watching over her.

Instantly, she remembered her parents. Her heart got caught in her throat at the painful memory of their final moments.

_It was a normal visit home from college. She was having dinner with her parents at her father's apartment. Her parents showed disappointment in her, as they always did when she failed to live up to their expectations. And they wouldn't stop constantly snipping at each other whenever they had the chance._

_ "She needs to focus more in school. Zoey, I thought you wanted to be a director. Why don't you spend more time learning about how to get there instead of skipping class to watch horror movies in your father's apartment?" The constant nagging from her mother was definitely not something Zoey missed when she was at school._

_ "Carolyn, leave her alone. If her hearts not in it, her hearts not in it." Zoey's father spoke up. She couldn't help but smile faintly. Her father always had her back._

_ "Well, then, she should have decided that her heat wasn't in it _before _we spent $6000 for a year she's flunking out of. Do you not care at all about the money we've just wasted, Wade?"_

_ Zoey's father let out a heavy sigh. His eyes fell to the empty dinner plate before him. Every time his ex-wife came over for dinner, it always ended in an argument. "I don't believe money spent on our daughter is a waste, Carolyn. If you had just let her try out the force with me-"_

_ Zoey's mom raised her hands and cut him off instantly. "I would never, ever let my little girl become a police officer." She spat. "Do you remember why we got divorced, Wade? Because I couldn't handle the stress of you going to work everyday getting shot at. Not to mention those horrible hours they give you."_

_ Zoey sat in silence, her head hung low. All they ever did was fight when they got together. And it always seemed to be about the same subject. Her. Did they ever get along? Were they ever even in love? Or did their different opinions on raising their daughter really drive such a wedge between them?_

_ The door suddenly burst open, startling the family of three as they sat at their dinner table._

_ Immediately, Zoey's father jumped up from his seat, reaching for the gun in his holster as a strange man staggered towards them. But his gun wasn't there. Carolyn had made him remove it before sitting down to dinner. She was never fond of guns._

_ "Damnit! Carolyn, Zoey, get back. Its one of those God damn infected!"_

_ He turned his back on his family as Zoey pulled her mother away from the intruder. Wade reached for his gun on the table beside him and quickly spun around to defend his family._

_ He heard about this. He had even come across it while he was on duty. But the government was supposed to be getting it all under control. The number of the infected was supposed to be dwindling. So why the hell was this sick bastard suddenly inside his apartment?_

_ "Mom! No!" Zoey cried out. Wade heard the sheer terror in his daughter's voice, and immediately knew he was too late._

_ He pulled the trigger of his standard issue handgun, and instantly the man dropped to the floor. Unfortunately, so did Carolyn._

_ Wade reached for his ex-wife, holding her body tightly in his arms. He glanced at his daughter, his fingers clinging onto the body he cradled close to his chest._

_ "Zoey, call 911."_

_ Frantically, with warm tears streaming down her face, Zoey nodded and darted across the room. She heard her father's hushed whispers to her mother as he tried to keep her conscious and with him. Zoey swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in her throat as she listened to her mother's grunts and groans._

_ "It's busy, dad!"_

_ "Keep trying!"_

_ Zoey's entire body shook as she dialed 911 again. It was still busy. It was no use. Whatever was going on in the city had 911 completely busy. Her only hope was gone. Her heart sunk into her chest as she scrambled to think of something else._

_ "Oh God, no, Carolyn, what the hell are you doing?"_

_ Zoey spun around. Her grip on the house phone became nonexistent as she watched her mother rip her father to shreds. He tried to fight her, but it was no use. Zoey watched in shock as the strongest man she had ever known was being easily overpowered._

_ "Mom! Stop! Mom!" Zoey pleaded. She screamed as loud as she could to try and get through to the woman. And she did._

_ Carolyn stood up, leaving Wade's bitten and cut up body on the ground below, as she turned to her daughter. Zoey covered her mouth at the sight. She had watched enough horror movies to know exactly what had just happened. But no, that's impossible. This wasn't a movie. This was real life. This kind of stuff just didn't happen in real life._

_ A good chunk of her mother's face was missing, from where the intruder had bit her. Blood oozed out of the open wound, dropping to the floor and gathering into a puddle of crimson. She staggered forward, her arms outstretched towards her daughter._

_ "Mom, please, stop." Zoey begged. There was nothing else she could do. Her heart was racing dangerously in her chest. Her head spun and she was having trouble catching her breath. This wasn't real. None of this was real. It just couldn't be._

_ "Zoey, get back!" Wade yelled as Carolyn lunged forward._

_ Zoey tripped on her own feet and found herself on the ground as more gunshots rang out. She watched as her mother fell to her feet, her body no longer moving. Carolyn's dead eyes remained open and focused on Zoey as she covered her mouth and bit back a cry._

_ She heard her father coughing, fluid clearly gathering in his throat as he struggled to breathe. At that moment, nothing else seemed to matter but her injured father. Zoey got to her feet and scrambled to his side. He was still alive. And she had to keep him that way until she could get through to 911._

_ "Dad, are you alright?" Who was she kidding by asking such a stupid question? Half of his face was completely torn up. There was a deep bite in his neck that was causing him to lose far too much blood. How could he still even talk? "Just hang in there, dad. I'm going to go grab some first aid."_

_ "Remember all those zombie movies I used to sneak you into as a kid?" He asked hoarsely, ignoring his daughter's words._

_ She knew where this was going. Her temples began to sting, the lump in her throat swelling to a point where she could barely breathe. "Yes."_

_ "Do you remember how they always had to shoot the one guy before he turned?"_

_ Tears streamed down Zoey's face as she shut her eyes tightly. "Yes. We always used to make fun of that part."_

_ "I love you, kid."_

_ Zoey reached for her father's handgun. She knew what she had to do. She took a step back from her father as she stood up and aimed the handgun at her father's head._

_ "I love you too, dad."_

Zoey snapped out of the memory as a gunshot went off. She looked around and the feeling of panic that she had come to know all too well sunk in again. That gunshot wasn't her final memory of her father. No, it was a gun going off painfully close to her.

Zoey stumbled back as a horde of undead approached her. She gripped her bat and braced herself for death when more gunshots rang out from above. One by one, the zombies began to drop onto the floor, lying in a pool of their own blood.

"God damnit, girl, get back!" A voice roared from above.

Zoey glanced up to where the voice came from, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't alone! There was another survivor!

He was high up on the roof of a building behind her. A smirk on his face as he cocked his shotgun and shot into the crowd of the undead that came after her. Dirt was smeared on his face and on the white wife beater he wore underneath his leather vest.

Relief swam through her as she watched more men step forward, standing side by side to the strange man who spoke to her. They each fired off into the crowd, shouting obscenities at the zombies as they began to drop like flies.

"Haha, yeah! You vampires ain't so tough now, are ya!" The first man hollered, throwing his closed fist up in the air to declare victory.

Zoey turned back to the horde that had the intent of killing her only moments ago. They were piled up on top of one another, their bodies as still as the air around them. She turned back to the group of men standing on the roof, and saw them watching her carefully.

This was not a group of men that she would normally find herself with. She knew not to judge people before getting to know them. Her parents had reminded her of that throughout her childhood as they tried to raise an open minded and kind daughter. But the sight of these men still made her uneasy.

They were all clad in leather jackets, except for the one in the vest. They were high up on the building's roof, but Zoey could still see that they all had at least a foot of height over her. And they were built like tanks. Zoey swallowed nervously. Was she better off alone or these guys?

"Are you one of them?" The man in the vest shouted.

Annoyance swam through Zoey's veins. Was this guy serious? "Do I _look_ like one of them?"

One of the men laughed and slapped the man in the vest on the arm. "Watch out, Francis, that one has bite!"

The men shared a laugh at Zoey's expense. Francis winked at her from above. "I like that in a woman. Well, this is your lucky day, doll." He told her before disappearing.

Her heart began to race again. Where did he go? Why were all the other men standing there, staring at her?

When the front door to the bar they had taken refuge in opened, Zoey instinctively took a step away from it. She watched Francis approach her and the feeling of sheer terror came back to her again. She was right. He was huge; towering over her like it was nothing.

He slung his shotgun on his shoulder and shot her a smirk. "Name's Francis. And who might you be, little lady?"

"Zoey." She responded nervously.

"Don't be looking so scared, little Zoey. I'm not about to hurt you. I ain't one of them." He said, his eyes trailing to the pile of zombies that lay behind her.

Zoey glanced up at the roof and saw that the men were no longer standing there. Were they coming down too? Her fingers twitched as she gripped her baseball bat as if her life depended on it.

"Why don't you come inside? It's safer in there." Francis turned and took a step towards the bar, but stopped when she spoke up from behind him.

"I…I don't know you guys." Her throat had closed in on her so much; she was surprised she could even get that much out.

He glanced back and cocked an eyebrow. "I understand that, darling. And if today were a normal day, I wouldn't object to that at all. But look around, Zoey. Today ain't a normal day. And we're the closest thing to safe you have right now." His eyes fell to the bat in her hand as a chuckled escaped his lips. "Especially if _that's_ your only weapon."

He was right. She hated that he was right, but she knew it. Hell, they probably all did. How she managed to survive this long was something she would never be able to explain. All this time, the single thought that consumed her mind was, "where are the other survivors?" And now here they were, and she was actually debating accepting their help.

Francis turned around fully to face her and shifted his weight impatiently. "Now I'm not about to force you to stay with us, I believe that's a little something called kidnapping. And even though there aren't really any cops walking around to stop me, it's not really my style. So it's completely up to you, kid. Are you going to stay here or not?"

Zoey took in a deep breath and closed the space between her and the biker. She stood by his side and tilted her head back so she could stare into his eyes, determined to stand her ground. "Yes. I'll stay with you guys. But just one thing. Please don't ever call me a kid again."

Francis chuckled to himself as he watched Zoey head into the bar. He rubbed his chin, the stubble of his beard scraping against his fingertips. This apocalypse just got interesting.


	2. Cleaning up the Town

**First of all, I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read the first chapter of my very first L4D fanfiction, especially those who left helpful reviews for me. I love getting constructive criticism, and by all means, what you guys had to say definitely helped me. I also made this chapter a little longer than I normally do. I tend to get a lot of people saying I make my chapters too short, but personally, I don't like reading ones that go on and on, so I always cut them a little short. But, I'm not the one reading this story, you guys are. So I'll try to make the chapters a little big longer than usual.  
**

**Naharaice13**** – I'm very glad that you enjoyed the first chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first. If not more!**

**demon-hell-fire**** – Thank you very much for your advice. I wrote this chapter with your comment in mine, and I tried to add more detail than the first chapter. I'm glad you like where the plot is going so far. Hopefully it'll keep you interested right until the end.**

**Mon- ****I definitely do want to add some action into this story the more it progresses. Oh, don't you worry, I'm going to try and get even deeper into Francis and Zoey as the chapters go by. Wish me luck!**

**Ethriel**** – ****I'm glad to see that you liked the way I started off my story. It's a pretty hard concept to have all the characters meet up and then write about the strong bond that they managed to form together, but I think I'm going to give it a shot and try my best to make it realistic. I thank Valve's Sacrifice comic for giving me a little more back story to each character. It makes it a lot easier to come up with a little of their history and have it be true to the series. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Lightning Guardian**** –**** Thank you very much for the review! I hope this story will shape up to be as good as yours. :)**

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Please, feel more than free to leave a review. They're always a great way to improve writing. Thanks for reading, everyone!

* * *

**

Zoey could feel her throat closing in on her when the entrance to the bar slammed shut behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. The men who just saved her from certain death had hammered in scraps of metal surrounding the old wooden door. She watched as Francis slid thick chunks of wood through the metal, adding extra security to the heavy door. And the only escape she currently knew of.

She clutched her baseball bat to her chest, holding onto it as if for dear life. Nervously, she scanned the room, looking for another quick escape, should she need to use it. But it was no use. Every window, at least on the ground floor, had been covered completely by thick pieces of wood. Where the hell did these guys get so much wood?

Francis groaned as he set the last piece in place. Turning to face the nervous girl, he brushed his hands together to get rid of any splinters of wood that remained on his skin. As if he could read her mind, he walked up to her and shrugged.

"The owner of this bar did a lot of things with construction. Expanding on his shit hole of a house and trying to build onto this crappy old bar were just a few ways he used to waste his time. So he had a lot of stuff lying around we figured we could use to secure the place up a little bit."

Francis walked past Zoey. She swallowed the spit that had gathered in her mouth as she watched him carefully. He walked around like he owned the place, striding confidently, even though for all he knew, they could all be dead in a matter of seconds. His height was extraordinary as he towered over her as if she were a child. And his build…well; let's just say that if she ran into him in a dark alley, she would be more than a little scared.

"'Used to?'" The way he spoke of the bar owner in the past tense only made her even more nervous about entering the bar.

The biker glanced back and casually answered her question. "Yeah. You know, before he got ripped to pieces by those damn vampires out there."

Vampires? Did he actually just call zombies vampires? If she wasn't absolutely terrified of the man that stood before her, she might have actually laughed. But no, now was definitely not the time to tell him he's using the wrong word to describe what almost killed her only moments before.

"Anyways. You should come up and meet the rest of the gang. I'm sure they're all still up on the roof." Francis waved his hand, motioning for her to follow him up the stairs at the back of the bar.

Zoey tightened her grip on her bat as she followed him. Did he really have to use the word 'gang' to describe the men that waited for them upstairs? As if she wasn't terrified enough…

Every ounce of sanity she still had inside of her told her this was a terrible idea. She was trying to be open minded about the whole situation, but it just wasn't working out. She couldn't forget how they looked, standing on a roof, mowing down a horde of oncoming zombies as if it were an average afternoon for them. Their physical appearance didn't settle her nerves very much, either.

Zoey heard loud music playing from above as they neared the top of the stairs. She had to admit, this seemed like one hell of a place to take refuge in until help arrived. The building was made of old bricks that had discolored from age. Zoey knew a thing or two about older buildings. While they tended to look like utter crap and needed some sprucing up to attract attention and new buyers, buildings like this just weren't made anymore.

Before leaving for college, Zoey had briefly dated a plumber. She remembered him telling her how the buildings he worked in used the lowest standard of materials to save costs and make more money. He had explained to her how every trade, not just plumbing, had the same method. At the time, she couldn't have been more bored out of her mind. But now, she was grateful she had the useful information. She had no doubt the reassurance would help her sleep at night.

Zoey walked onto the roof, still following closely behind Francis. Her tight grip on her bat never faltered as she came to a stop in front of the men who had saved her life.

She scanned their faces, searching for a softness that her conscious begged to find. There was none. None of the men before her looked as though they had a soft side or even knew what it meant to have one. All she saw was a bunch of muscle and leather. Just her luck.

"Guys, this is Zoey. Zoey, that's Danny, Sean, Nick, and Chris."

Zoey followed Francis's finger as he pointed to each man as he said their name. She shot them a smile as she tried to identify each name with a face. She never was good at remembering names and faces. But considering the fact that these were probably going to be the last people she would ever meet, she figured she could give it a try.

"Hi." Was all she could muster up at that particular moment. She watched the men as they glanced at one another, smile spreading across their lips. Amusement was written all over their faces as they watched her nervously stand before them.

"Well, we ain't going to bite, Zoey. There's no need to look at us like we're one of them." Danny laughed, cocking his head the pile of undead bodies in the street below.

Zoey smiled genuinely and felt her heart beat begin to slow down. She studied the men before her. They all sat lazily in lawn chairs; each had a beer clutched tightly in their hands with a different type of gun in the other. Sure, their appearance was a little different than what she was used to being around. But for all she knew, these men could be the last survivors on the planet.

There was no way that she was going to judge them on appearance and make a mistake that could cost her her life. If these men were nice enough to let her stay here with them, then the least she could do is try to relax a little.

She had managed to survive these past few days, but that was nothing short of a miracle. She had no idea how she managed to pull that off, but she was thankful to whoever was watching over her.

"I'm sorry. I'm still having trouble with this whole…zombie apocalypse thing."

Francis had a good, bellowing laugh at Zoey's response. "Really? We're having a blast with it. I mean, look around. We've got ourselves a cozy little set up right here."

He held his arms out to either side, a smile proudly spread across his thin lips. Zoey looked around, and had to admit that, in any other situation, this would be pretty sweet. A jukebox blasted out music beside the stairs, giving a strange comfort to her aching soul. It reminded her of the days she used to blast her music in her room. It reminded her of the days when everything was still…normal. There was a bucket of ice right beside it, with a handful of beers buried deep into it. And, of course, behind the seated men was a wooden table, set up with more guns and ammunition than anyone could ever need.

The moans from below traveled up to the roof and sent a noticeable shiver down Zoey's spine. Okay, maybe there was no such thing as too much guns and ammunition right about now.

Francis took his seat, which happened to be beside where Zoey stood, and reached over for a beer. He shook the moisture off his hand and twisted the cap off. With his eyes never leaving her face, he took a swig of his beer.

"So, Zoey, what's your story?"

She frowned at Francis. "What do you mean?"

Francis chuckled. "How are you still alive?"

Zoey was taken back by his question. How crazy would these men think she was if she said it was pure luck? "I was at home, having dinner with my parents." Zoey's eyes fell to the ground, her voice lowering as she remembered her final moments with her parents. "A man came into my father's apartment. He attacked my mom. And then she…"

Zoey's throat closed in on her. She tried to fight against the tears stinging her eyes, but it was too much, too soon. She turned away from the men, ashamed to cry in front of them. She dropped her baseball bat, narrowly missing her feet, as she buried her face in her hands.

"Aw, Jesus, Zoey, I'm sorry." Francis sat his beer down beside his chair, ignoring the glares he got from his friends. There was nothing he hated more than seeing a woman cry. It broke his heart. It always had.

He put a hand gently on her shoulder and turned her, walking her towards the stairs. She shook under his hand, her body wracked from her sobs. "I'll take you to the bathroom. You can clean up in there." If there was any way for him to kick himself in the ass, there wouldn't be a more appropriate time than right now.

_Wow. Way to make a great first impression, Zoey._

Zoey turned the sink faucet, praying for water to come spraying out, but not getting her hopes up. A shaky breath slipped through her lips when water came gushing out. She reached for it and bent over the sink, splashing cold water in her face. She turned the sink off, not wanting to waste any of it if they had a limited supply, and stood up to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Without looking away, she reached for a nearby towel, prayed that no one had used it anywhere inappropriate, and patted her face dry. God, it looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her eyes were heavy from the lack of sleep, dark circles taking refuge under them to show everyone she encountered just how tired she was.

And now, on top of it all, her eyes were red from crying. Great. Zoey wrinkled her nose as she examined her sweater. Even though it was red, she could still see where blood had splattered on her. All the people she had to kill to get where she was right now. Her own father being one of them.

Zoey felt her eyes begin to sting again and lowered her head. She leaned her hands against the sink and took in a deep breath to try and steady herself, forcing back the tears that burned her vision.

_Don't cry, Zoey. It's time to be strong._

Now was definitely not the time to be weak. She had to stand up and take control of her emotions now more than ever. She would not let her parent's deaths be in vain. She would get out of this God forsaken city alive, whether it would be alone or not.

Zoey let out a heavy sigh and looked back up at her reflection. God had brought her to these men for a reason. Instead of always thinking of the negative, she would look at this situation as a positive one. These men would help her get out of this city. She would depend on them to protect her, and in return, she would do the same for them.

Giving her reflection one last glance, Zoey reached for the doorknob and opened the bathroom door. She looked around the hallway and saw Francis wasn't where she had seen him last. How long had she been in there?

Moving quietly, she tiptoed down the hall. She heard the music blaring from upstairs, but didn't plan on going back up there anytime soon. She wanted to wait until there was no evidence left of just how bad she had been crying once Francis brought her to the bathroom.

As Zoey passed a doorway, something in the room caught her eye. She stopped walking and looked in. Francis stood in the darkness of the room, his attention focused on the other side of the closed window.

Curious, she walked into the room and approached him. A creak filled the silent room and Francis whipped around, his gun already in his hand.

Zoey threw her hands up and stopped dead in her tracks. She watched him relax the minute he saw it was her, lowering his gun and sliding it back into his holster.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that, Zoey. Not at a time like this."

Carefully, she finished walking towards him, her heart still pounding furiously in her chest. She flashed him a thin smile and tried to suppress the fact that inside, she was still screaming. She had never looked down the barrel of a gun before. "Sorry. I just wanted to see what you were looking at."

Without saying a word, Francis cocked his head towards the window. Zoey swallowed the spit that had gathered in her mouth and walked towards the window, a part of her already terrified to see what waited for them out there.

"Oh my God…" She gasped.

Francis shifted so he stood directly behind her. His eyes fell to the ground below as he shook his head solemnly. "There ain't no God anymore, Zoey."

She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and had to fight against the shiver that wanted to run through her body. His body was so close against hers, she could feel the heat radiating off him.

But no, now was definitely not the time to give thoughts like that so much as a second thought. The entire street below was crawling with the undead. There must have been hundreds and hundreds of them, walking around aimlessly, searching for their next victim.

That's when Zoey realized it. They were all going to die here. There was no getting out of this. Not when the numbers were stacked this much against them.

Zoey felt Francis step away from her and let out a silent breath of relief. "Maybe you guys should turn down that music. Do you really want to attract more of them?"

Zoey turned around, expecting to see distance between her and Francis. There was definitely distance, just not as much as she would have preferred at that moment. He was standing right before her, the man who saved her life, the man who took her in when he could have left her out there to be torn to bits. Her hero. He was so close; she could reach out and touch him.

But she was frozen in place. She felt the flush of color engulf her cheeks as she stared up at the man who was the reason she was still here. She took a step back, trying to fight against the blush spreading across her face. She saw him smirk and chuckle under his breath and immediately knew that he had seen it before she could shift her glance to the ground between them.

Francis opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Danny as he entered the room. "Hey, Francis, we're getting a little restless up there. And those bastards seem to be gathering again. Are we going to take care of it, or what?"

Francis's grin widened as he made eye contact with Zoey again. "It's time to party, little Zoey. Are you ready to have some fun?"

Zoey followed Danny and Francis back onto the roof. She looked around frantically as the men began picking up their weapons, stocking ammunition into piles beside them as they took a stance at the edge of the room. She watched in horror as Francis followed the other men.

"What are you guys doing? You're not going to kill them, are you?" Zoey asked, walking up beside Francis.

He shot her a crooked smirk and reloaded his gun. "Oh yeah, we are. Grab a gun and start shooting, Zoey."

Francis held out his shotgun, his finger resting on the trigger, when Zoey grabbed a hold of his bicep to stop him. He felt her hand tense up at the contact and turned to look at her with a confused look on his face.

"You can't kill them." Something about it just seemed so…wrong. Her stomach turned at the thought of killing all of them. They weren't human anymore; she had the pleasure of seeing that first hand. But still, the thought alone brought the bitter taste of bile to her mouth.

"Francis, is she serious?" Danny asked as he took up position next to him.

"We're no better than them if you mow them down like this. It's not right." She pleaded.

Francis's eyes darted back and forth between the gathering horde below and the young woman who stood beside him. "I figured you, of all people, would understand why we have to do this. If I saw someone I cared about being killed by those sons of bitches, I don't think I'd ever stop shooting. It's kill or be killed out here now, Zoey. The world you once knew is no more."

Zoey opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was absolutely right. It was because of those soulless creatures below that her parents were killed. It was because of them that everything in this city was going to hell. It was because of them she wasn't going to live long enough to experience life the way she always wanted to.

She looked back up at Francis when he held out a handgun towards her. She felt the other men's eyes on her, watching to see if she would take it or not, but she focused her attention on Francis. He just looked at her without a shred of emotion on his face, as if he wanted to stray from influencing her.

If she took the gun from his hand, he would cheer her on as she pulled that trigger; he would show her how to improve her aim to drop more of those bastards faster. If she didn't, he wouldn't say a word. Not everyone could be heartless son of a bitch like him.

With a shaky hand, Zoey reached for the gun Francis held out to her. He smiled confidently and winked at her when she took a hold of the cold weapon. She looked up at him briefly, her eyes wide with fear and worry before he turned to face the hordes below.

"Alright, guys. Let's show these mother fuckers how it's done!" Francis roared.

Gunfire exploded into the dead evening air. Zoey stumbled back from the group of men as they continued to fire off into the crowd of undead below.

Every fiber of her being was telling her to aim her gun and pull that trigger. She heard the voice inside her head reminding her of her parent's demise, how they were attacked right in front of her. All because of those God damn zombies. But she couldn't. She just couldn't find it in herself to shoot them as mercilessly as the men did.

With tears blurring her vision, Zoey walked to the edge of the roof and watched the slaughter. This was all just so wrong. She could feel it in the depths of her heart. But a part of her, somewhere deep inside of her, told her that this was the only way. Despite chucks of missing flesh and the fact that they had become blood thirsty, they still looked so human.

Her heart was still heavy from those she had to kill to survive over the past few days. She knew their hearts were no longer beating, but how can you ever get used to destroying human bodies like that? Just so you can survive?

Zoey fell to her knees and watched bullets fly into the crowds. Tears fell down her pale cheeks as she watched them fall, one by one, never to get up again. She knew that was a good thing. She knew that they were no longer human and the longer they were left alive, the slimmer her chance of surviving was. But still. They looked so human.

Zoey's eyes trailed from the horde below to the men who lined up alongside the edge of the roof beside her. They were laughing and cheering into the oncoming night as they pulled their triggers, reloading only when they ran out of ammunition.

Had she escaped from the deadly clutches of soulless monsters, or instead, had she willingly run into them?


	3. In the Middle of the Night

**I ****just**** want**** to ****take ****the**** time**** to ****thank ****every ****single**** person ****who ****reviewed**** this**** story.****I**** absolutely ****love**** getting**** feedback ****from**** people,**** especially**** when**** people**** are**** enjoying ****it**** as ****much**** as**** you**** all**** have ****been. ****I**** also**** want**** to**** apologize ****for**** not**** updating**** this**** story ****in**** so**** long.**** Last ****night ****I**** was ****reading**** some**** old**** reviews,**** and**** I**** decided**** to**** pick**** up**** this**** story ****again.****Since ****so**** many**** of**** you**** are ****enjoying ****it,****why**** would**** I**** stop?**

** So this chapter goes out to everyone who waited patiently for the update. I hope it's more than what you expected, and I hope to hear some more feedback from you.**

** Thanks a lot, guys!**

* * *

This wasn't right. Something about what these men were doing just wasn't right.

It was stupid, her trying to take a stand against them killing these undead monsters. She knew it with every fiber of her being. They killed her parents. Her _parents_. They deserved to die. Everyone last one of those bastards.

But still, when it came down to it, they were still human beings. Or, they used to be, at least. Every monster out there at one point had been someone's mother, someone's father, someone's friend. And even though they still bore similarities to the people they once were, the bottom line was, they weren't the same people anymore. Hell, they weren't even people. They were undead, flesh eating monsters.

_So__ get__ a__ grip,__ Zoey.__ For__ God__ sakes,__ don__'__t__ just__ stand__ there,__watching.__Do__ something!_

She paused for a second as the voice ran through her mind. Still holding onto the gun Francis had handed her, she gave her body a moment to obey her mind. No matter how much she tried to convince herself to pull that trigger, she simply couldn't do it. Maybe if she were older and stronger she could tell herself that slaughtering the mass below was the right thing to do. But right now, in this moment, she couldn't muster up the courage to lift that handgun and pull the trigger.

Without saying a word to any of the men around her, Zoey turned away from the edge of the roof and dragged her feet over to one of the empty chairs. She slumped down into it, a heavy sigh escaping from her dry lips.

She felt like a failure, like a coward. What would her father say if he were still alive?

A lump swelled deep in her throat at the thought of her father.

He was such a strong man, by far the strongest man she had ever met. He had been a police officer long before Zoey was even in diapers. He went to work everyday, believing in what he stood for. And that was protecting the innocent people of their town. He put his life on the line every day he put that uniform on, and never had questioned it for so much as a second.

Here she was, the daughter of a police officer, and she couldn't even aim her gun at the same creature that had taken her father away from her. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to use it, either. After her parents got divorced, her father had taken her with him to shooting ranges when he got her every other weekend.

"_You __never __know__ when__ knowing __how __to __use__ a__ gun __will __come __in__ handy._"

She had killed people to get herself to where she was right now. To get herself to safety, she had to take the lives of others. And that would be something she would have to live with for the rest of her life. For however long that would be, at least.

Zoey closed her eyes and hung her head low, ignoring the sharp sting stabbing her temple. She found herself struggling with her moralities while the sound of gunfire rang out into the night.

She wasn't sure how she managed to pass out in that chair with the sound of guns going off every two seconds, but she did. All Francis had to do was nudge her once and she shot awake.

She looked up at him with wide eyes as a smirk spread over his lips.

"Come on, kid. You're exhausted. Why don't you go downstairs and sleep for a bit? We're on watch up here, don't worry."

In any other situation, a strange and full on intimidating man suggesting her to go lie down in an unfamiliar place would have put her on high alert. But, as she had already come to terms with, this was definitely not a normal, everyday situation. Too exhausted to fight against his suggestion, Zoey nodded meekly and pushed herself off the chair.

She extended her hand and looked up at the man who stood towering over her. "Here. It's obvious I'm not going to make good use of this gun. You might as well take it back."

Francis simply shook his head, that smirk never leaving his lips. "Nah, you hang on to it, kid. You never know when you might need that thing."

Thankfully, it wasn't more than a few minutes before Francis escorted her down the stairs and to one of the bedrooms on the second floor. She glanced around, noticing there were more people in the building than there were bedrooms.

"Where are all of you going to sleep?"

Francis leaned against the door frame as Zoey made her way further into the bedroom, practically making a dash for the bed. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched her move through the darkness.

"It works out pretty good, actually. There are three bedrooms and five of us. Two people are always on watch, because as dumb as those bastards are, they can be pretty sneaky."

Zoey frowned, setting her gun down on the nightstand beside her new bed. She took a seat at the edge of the mattress and turned her head to look at Francis standing in the doorway. The light shinning from behind him made him a staggering shadow standing only a few feet away from her. Either he was a freaking giant, or she was ridiculously small.

"So aren't I taking someone's bed? Where's that person going to sleep?"

Francis shrugged. "We take shifts sleeping. We'll figure something out. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, Zoey. We're big men; we can take care of ourselves."

_Yeah,__no__ kidding._

"Go to sleep, Zoey. Not going to lie, kid. You look like hell."

Zoey was passed out. She was beyond exhausted. She was well aware of what waited for her just outside her window. But at this point, her body couldn't have cared less. She was in a deep sleep, her aching muscles relishing in the fact that for the first time in way too long, she had a soft, warm bed to lie down in.

She had managed to convince herself to relax and let sleep take over her body after over an hour of battling with herself. The bottom floor was completely closed off. The windows had thick bars of wood nailed onto them. None of those bastards were getting through anytime soon. Not to mention all the men and firepower that was roaming around this building. If she were to be safe anywhere in this city, she had no doubt that it would be here.

She had never thought of the biggest threat coming from someone already inside the house.

Somehow, despite all that was going on in the world around her, Zoey found herself completely unaware of her bedroom door creaking open. The door was slowly, silently shut behind the shadow that entered it. The sound of endless hungry moans rising up from the street below hid the sound of the creaking boards below the shadow's feet as the figure approached the bed where Zoey slept soundly.

He watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. The desire inside his chest grew as he watched the thin sheet that covered her small body rise and fall with each steady breath.

God, it had been too long since he had been with a woman. It felt as though it had been even longer since he had gazed upon one. Especially a woman so young and vulnerable. He could take her, right here, right now, and no one would hear him. And even if they did, no one would care to stop him.

As soon as she walked through those doors, Danny found himself believing in God again. He knew that was what brought her here. They would protect her, and in return, she would forfeit her body to them upon their request. There was no way in hell that this girl, possibly the last living woman in the city, was going to deny them. And if she did, he would force her.

He closed the distance between himself and Zoey's laying figure. In one swift motion, Danny clamped his sweaty palm over the young girl's mouth. In an instant, her eyes shot open with nothing but fear lurking in them.

But Danny didn't care. She was just some girl. He would use her when he wanted to, and however he wanted to. And she would take it willingly. And if she didn't, he was fully prepared to make her.

Zoey shot up in the bed, trying to edge away from the intruder, but the wooden headboard brought her to a rough and sudden stop.

"Shh. You make one noise; I promise you I'll toss you off that roof like an empty beer bottle." He warned her, slowly getting onto the bed.

Tears gathered in Zoey's dark eyes as she felt him get closer to her, fully knowing his intention. She felt him straddle her, placing both knees on the either side of her thighs, locking her between his legs. Right where the bastard wanted her. He pushed down harder on her mouth, hurting her jaw as whimpers escaped from her lips.

He smiled at her as he watched the tears fall from her burning eyes. He actually _smiled_ at her.

"I bet you haven't had much experience, have you, Zoey? Don't worry, I promise I'll be gentle." He assured her as he closed the gap between them.

Danny removed his hand from her mouth and captured her lips with his own.

Zoey had come to the conclusion earlier in the night that she was many things. She might've been a failure and a coward, but she was not going to allow herself to be a victim of rape. She would rather him throw her off the roof to the hungry zombies below than let him have the satisfaction of forcing her to please him.

She fought back with every ounce of strength her body had gained from her short sleep. She tried to slap his hand away from her breast as he roughly kneaded it from the outside of her shirt. She dug her nails, whatever nails she hadn't bitten off since the outbreak happened, into his hand to try and fend him off. But he ignored it, as if he didn't even feel it.

Zoey almost threw up in her mouth when she felt Danny's tongue slide across her lips roughly. Not politely asking for entrance, but demanding it from her.

Somewhere in the struggle, Danny managed to grab a hold of the white sleeveless shirt Zoey had worn to bed. He ripped it right off her with no effort at all. Zoey let out a cry against Danny's lips as she pushed against him with everything she had inside her.

He made a disgusting growl against her quivering lips as he reached behind her, fumbling to unhook the thin bra that separated them. She was shaking, her entire body wracked in tremors as she continued to fight a losing battle.

"Stop!" She cried out, finally pulling her lips away from his.

He pulled back, only a couple of inches and glared at her. Even in the darkness that engulfed the room, Zoey could see the fury in his eyes. He brought his hand back and slapped her across the face, the sheer force of it sending her body onto the mattress helplessly.

Zoey's hand immediately went to the aid of her throbbing cheek, looking up at him from her bangs that had scattered across her face like a wildfire.

"I told you to shut the fuck up, bitch."

Zoey didn't even have time to recover from the blow before he jumped on her again. He pushed her down so she was on her back. Pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, Danny let his other hand trail down her slender stomach, stopping once he reached what he had been searching for the entire time.

He chuckled when he felt only her underwear waiting for him. "You knew I would come for you tonight, didn't you?" He growled as he began to pull them down.

Zoey fought against him, trying to scream out for help. But her throat was dry and had closed in on her. This was it. There was no fighting against the powerful man that had her pinned down on the bed.

Over the loud pounding of her heart, Zoey almost didn't hear her bedroom door burst open. _Almost._

With tears burning her eyes, her attention was drawn to the open door. Danny's fingers immediately froze, still hooked into Zoey's underwear as he dragged his eyes towards the shadow that waited at the door.

It was Francis. And he was pissed.


	4. Come On

** Well hello, everyone! That's right; I've finally managed to update this story! Everyone has been so supportive of this story that I just had to add another chapter.**

** I just figured out that I can upload stories through my phone, so I'm going to give that a try. I hope it doesn't ruin the format of the story and crowd everything together, so if it does, I'll do my best to fix it asap. I've never uploaded a story using my phone before, so wish me luck!**

** Anyways, sorry about the serious delay. You guys have been so great and definitely deserve to have this story updated more often. So here we go, wish me luck in uploading it, and don't forget to drop a review!**

** Thanks, everyone!**

Danny continued to watch Francis over his shoulder, his fingers still tangled in Zoey's underwear. A smirk spread across his dry lips, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "I got here first, Francis. You can have her when I'm done."

Danny turned back to Zoey, that sickening smile still spread across his lips as he clumsily dragged her panties down her thighs. She struggled underneath him, trying desperately to push him away, but the weight of his body against hers was threatening to suffocate her.

Through the tears burning at her eyes, Zoey watched Francis cross the room in no time at all. A startled gasp slipped through her lips when Francis plucked Danny off of her with one hand. Her lungs relished in the ability to breath again as her shaky fingers clutched the bed sheets to her chest.

"Francis, what the hell?" Danny yelled out.

Francis spun the man around and slammed him into the wall. Still clutching the collar of Danny's shirt in a close fist, Francis raised the other and made hard contact with his jaw. Zoey jumped at the sound of the blow, the loud snap of bone breaking filling the room.

Danny crumbled to the floor, clutching his broken jaw as he cried out in pain. Francis stood over him, his eyes dark and narrowed as he clenched both fists by his side. His eyes never left the poor excuse of a man at his feet as he spoke to Zoey.

"Get dressed."

She shook violently, watching the stiff back of Francis as she tried to catch her breath. "My shirt. He ripped it."

"The dresser. There's clothes in there." Still, he kept his back turned to her.

Zoey obeyed the man who had saved her and pushed herself off the bed. Fumbling in the dark, Zoey found the pair of jeans she had tossed onto the chair before she had slipped into the bed a few hours prior. She pulled them on, zipping them up before making her way across the room to the dresser. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking as she pulled out a white wife beater that was clearly made for a man at least twice her size.

She slipped the shirt over her head. Somehow she managed to find her red sweater, which she quickly used to cover any exposed skin.

"Put your shoes on." Francis ordered.

Zoey did as she was told, not daring to object to the man. Her mind was shouting at her to run away, not to trust this man. For all she knew, he had the same intention as Danny. But it wasn't as if she had many options, even if she did manage to escape the house and the men that lived within it. There were hundreds, no doubt even thousands of the zombies lurking the streets outside. If, by some miracle, she managed to escape the house alive, she had no doubt that the creatures outside would tear her to shreds as quickly as Danny had intended to.

The thought alone was enough to make Zoey want to crawl under the sheets and never come out.

"You dressed?"

Zoey shook her head. "Yes."

"Grab that gun I gave you. You're gonna need it." Francis lifted up his heavy boot and slammed it against the side of Danny's face. He collapsed onto the ground, a pool of blood gathering under him as Francis finally turned away from the unmoving man.

Zoey cursed herself when she picked up the gun with a shaky hand. She tried to calm her heartbeat, but it was no use. She was still in a panic, her mind still racing as everything that just happened flashed back to her over and over again.

"Come with me." Francis told her sternly as he headed towards the bedroom door.

She took one step forward but came to a sudden stop. "Where are we going?" _Can I trust you?_

"I'm getting you the hell outta here. You'll have better luck on the streets. At least those vampires won't rape you over and over again."

She didn't have time to respond before he disappeared beyond the door. Even if she did, she wasn't sure what she would've said. It wasn't like she had any other choice but to follow him. All she could do was pray that he wasn't going to hurt her the way Danny had intended to.

As they made their way down the stairs Zoey heard the men on the rooftop shouting. She strained to listen to what they were saying. Had they noticed Francis and Danny were gone? Were they going to come looking for them? Would they turn their guns on Francis once they realized what he had done to their friend?

A shudder ran through Zoey's small frame as the questions swarmed her mind. For the first time since Francis had come bursting into her room she noticed he wielded a shotgun in his gloved hands. She hadn't even seen him stop to pick it up, but it gave her some sort of comfort to see him with it. At least if the men came after them they had a chance to stop them before either of them got hurt.

"Holy shit, what the fuck is that?" One of the men shouted. It wasn't more than a second later that gunfire erupted from the roof.

Zoey's heart began furiously pounding in her chest again. What did they see? What was out there? It had to be something different from what they normally saw to make them freak out like that. She could only imagine what was beyond the wall of the house they had holed themselves up in.

Zoey came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, trying to remain calm as Francis cross the room and made his way to the front door of the shop. She watched him as he peered through an opening between two slabs of wood, scoping out the situation in the front. She heard him curse under his breath and found her feet moving towards him curiously.

"What is it?" She asked in a shaky voice.

Francis turned to look at her over his shoulder. "There's too many out there. We can't go this way."

Zoey felt his eyes on her as she stepped forward to take a look for herself. She knew he was right, she had no doubt that all the shouting and gunfire had drawn hordes of the zombies. But she had to see for herself.

She looked out through another gap between the wooden planks of wood that was closer to her eye level and saw hundreds of zombies on the other end. Her heart sunk in her chest when she realized they were trapped inside. There was no way they could make it out onto the streets alive, not with so many hostiles hungrily waiting for them.

She opened her mouth to say something when the ground began to shake beneath them. With a look of confusion, she glanced over at Francis to see the same look on his features. He moved to the right, putting distance between himself and the young girl as he tried to find another gap so he could look back out into the street.

Zoey quickly turned her attention back to outside and immediately saw what was making the Earth itself shake. She couldn't see much of it; it was too big to see its full figure through the small crack. But she saw large arms as it ran through the crowd of zombies, picking them up and tossing them aside as it approached the building.

"Holy shit!" Zoey gasped as she quickly ran to Francis. She grabbed a steady hold of his arm and pulled him away from the boarded up windows with as much force as she could summon.

She must have caught Francis off guard; it was the only way that she would've been able to move a man of his size. She threw him to the ground, landing beside him, as the barrier between themselves and the undead was broken through.

"What the hell is that?!" Francis barked, his eyes taking in the enormous creature that had broken into the shop.

Zoey caught a quick glance of the beast before pushing herself to her feet, grabbing a steady hold of Francis's wrist as she pulled him up with her. "Run!"

Francis made no hesitation as he followed her up the stairs. The ground shook underneath them as the creature let out a deafening growl and began to chase after them. Francis spun around, his shotgun aimed and ready as he pulled the trigger. He swore the bullet tore through the creatures face, but to his despair it didn't even seem phased.

He cocked his shotgun and pulled the trigger again but the creature didn't even flinch. "This thing's like a fucking tank! What the hell is this?"

"Francis, run!" Zoey screamed over the gunfire.

Sending another bullet into the creature's rotting flesh, Francis decided now was not the time to play the hero and turned to run up the remaining stairs. When they finally reached the rooftop it seemed as though all hell had broken loose.

The men were shooting off their weapons into the crowd of zombies that had gathered below. But their screams had become frantic and terrified instead of cocky taunts from confident men.

"Where the hell did that thing go? Fuck, did you see the size of it?" One of the men shouted over the roar of gunfire.

"It's coming!" Zoey warned them, trying to put as much distance between the tank and herself.

"What?" One of the men asked, spinning around to look at her.

The tank burst through the door, a hand reaching out to grab a hold of the man. Zoey watched helplessly as the other men turned their fire on the creature as it clenched it fist, the man being crushed effortlessly within its large fingers.

Francis stood with his friends, taking aim and pulling the trigger of his shotgun to try and put the beast down. But no matter how many bullets they sent flying into the creature's flesh, it didn't even seem to injure it.

Zoey spun around while the men tried to hold the tank off. There was no way they could successfully make it by the creature to head back down the stairs. Suddenly the zombies below didn't seem so frightening to her. Not in comparison to the creature that had managed to break down the wall of the shop. Their only hope was to try and jump to the next rooftop. Whether they would make it or not was up to fate.

"Francis!" Zoey called out, catching his attention. She signalled the next rooftop to him and saw him nod in agreement.

"Come on!" Francis called out to his men.

They turned to follow him, their heavy boots crushing the asphalt below as they made their way towards Zoey. She was mentally preparing herself to jump to the next rooftop when something shot out from nowhere and wrapped tightly around one of the men. She had wanted to call out his name, to warn him as it approached, but in the midst of the chaos, she had forgotten the rest of the men's names.

She watched in horror as what looked like a tentacle wrapped tightly around the man's waist. His gun fell from his grip as it pulled him backwards and towards the tank that had followed her and Francis to the roof.

"God damnit. Nick!" Francis called out for his friend to help him try and free the other man. Nick stopped running and spun around, aiming his gun along with Francis. They aimed their weapons but couldn't see whatever it was that was restricting the other man.

"Shoot that big fucking thing!" Francis told Nick taking aim at the tank as it walked towards the man who was had the tentacle wrapped tightly around him.

They sent off several bullets but still the tank paid them and their bullets no attention. They watched in horror as the tank picked up the man slamming his fist into the ground and instantly killing him. After several hits into the roof, the tank tossed the man over the rooftop, sending his lifeless body into the hungry horde of zombies anxiously awaiting his flesh.

"Run! Now!" Zoey cried out desperately.

Francis and Nick turned back to her and ran as quickly as they could. She took a few steps back, closed her eyes for just a moment, and prayed for her parents, wherever they were, to keep her safe. But when she opened her eyes and told her feet to move forward, they refused to. They remained planted into the ground, not willing to budge an inch.

Her breath became frantic when the realization that she was about to die hit her. She heard the men's footsteps approach her and she knew they would jump, leaving her behind to be ravaged by the relentless beast. Sobs of defeat slipped through her chapped lips as she told herself that she would at least be at peace soon enough.

"Come the fuck on!" Francis's voice said in her ear.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling him into her as he leapt across the roof. She cried out, terrified, as the grip on her handgun loosened and it was sent three stories down.

Somehow, they had managed to make it to the next rooftop, landing on the hard cement with a loud _thud_. The wind was momentarily knocked out of Zoey as she crawled to her hands and knees, gasping desperately for air. Francis got to his feet quickly and waved Nick over frantically.

"Just jump!" He called out.

Nick hesitated for only a moment and in that moment his fate was sealed. He tried to jump across to the next roof, but the tank had followed suit and jumped right behind him. The beast fell behind Nick as he hung onto the edge of the roof, the weight of the creature crushing him almost instantly against the side of the building.

Francis pulled Zoey to her feet as the creature slowly pulled itself up.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Zoey asked in tears.

"Run."


	5. The Escape

** Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story. I know it hasn't been updated as frequently as you would like, but I promise that's all going to change now. By all means, keep dropping reviews and letting me know what you think of the story so far. Thanks again to all of you and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

Zoey didn't have to be told twice. She spun around and followed Francis as they ran to the opposite end of the rooftop. She could hear the creature growl furiously as it lifted itself up over the edge, smashing its giant fists into the roof underneath. Zoey could feel the building shake beneath her and silently prayed that it wouldn't collapse under the weight and blows of the tank.

Francis ran to the door at the other end, pulling on it as he tried to pry it open. He cursed loudly, smashing his booted foot against the door out of frustration. "It's locked!"

Zoey had turned her back to Francis, her arms aimed towards the Tank at the other end. She glanced over her shoulder frantically and shouted. "What?"

"It's locked!" Francis repeated, his mind quickly trying to come up with another plan to get off the roof alive and intact.

"So kick it open!" They always kicked doors open in the movies and had made it look so easy. How hard could it possibly be to kick open a door? Besides, Francis was a big guy, if anyone could break down a door, it would be him…right?

He took a step back and heard Zoey pull the trigger of her gun. He knew that bastard was coming and he knew that it was now or never. If he didn't break that door down they were going to die up here. And dying was not on his list of things to do today.

He slammed the bottom of his boot against the metal door and felt pain shoot up his entire leg. He let out a groan but forced himself to continue his attack against the door. A few unsuccessful blows later and Francis realized he would probably never feel his foot again. But he couldn't give up. They had both come this far, he couldn't give up now.

Zoey felt panic rise through her body as she watched the tank close the distance between them. It used its arms to carry itself, running along the roof like a gorilla. The bullets in her pistol were useless against the creature. They weren't even slowing him down. She pulled her finger back towards her once more only to hear a dreadful _click_. Her gun was empty.

She took a step back, her body lining up with Francis as he continued to try and force the door open. She thought quickly, trying to come up with something, _anything_, that would get them out of this situation.

"Francis, it's coming," she warned.

"I know! I'm tryin' here!"

"No, it's coming. When it gets here, jump to your left."

Francis kept up his assault against the door but managed to shoot her a look of confusion in between blows. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It'll think it's hitting us, but if we're lucky it'll bust open the door." They weren't actors in a scripted movie, but if luck was on their side, her plan might work. She had seen similar things happen countless times before. Sure, it was all in television shows, movies and video games, but it didn't mean it couldn't happen in real life. And considering the fact that this might have been their only hope, she wasn't about to ignore the thought when it popped into her head. "Just turn around and get ready."

Francis did as he was told, almost limping as he spun around to come face to face with the beast. He gripped his shotgun tightly in his hand, temped to take aim and pull his trigger. But if they did manage to somehow get out of this situation, they might need those bullets further down the road. Especially considering the fact that Zoey was now running on empty.

Zoey braced herself as she watched the tank approach them. Now wasn't the time to have fear or doubt herself. She had to have faith in her plan; she had to have faith that she and Francis would somehow escape the beast. She wouldn't let her parents down. Not now, not ever. _Not again._

Sure enough, the tank lifted its massive hand, swinging it downward towards the two survivors. Almost in sync, Zoey and Francis jumped to opposite ends, their bodies hitting the rooftop with a hard thump. Zoey cringed when she heard the door burst open under the tank's fist, fear swimming through her body at the power of the beast.

_It could rip you apart with nothing but its bare hands._

She didn't have time to silence the voice in her head before she heard Francis scream out her name. Pushing herself onto her feet, Zoey ran towards the tank, forcing back the fear that threatened to overcome her body.

Francis had gotten into the door, the creature being too preoccupied with trying to free itself from the metal that had enveloped its fist. Zoey watched the creature as it struggled to free itself, her mind yelling obscenities at her as she approached it.

What if it broke free when she got closer? It would no doubt grab her and kill her within seconds, much like it had the others. But she couldn't afford to doubt herself. She was so close. All she needed to do was duck under the creature and they would be free.

When she got closer to it, Zoey ducked and slid underneath the tank's arm. She heard it roar, shouting angrily as she stumbled onto her feet again and followed Francis down the stairs.

They made it to the ground floor and thankfully the tank seemed to still be stuck on the roof. Francis neared the front door and saw that it had been boarded up, much like they had done to their own stronghold.

"Damnit!" Francis cursed loudly, realizing he needed time to pry the door open.

When Zoey neared she saw that they were trapped. She ran up besides Francis and slammed her empty pistol against his chest. "Give me your gun."

"What?"

"Give me your gun!" She repeated, louder this time.

Hesitantly, Francis gave the girl his shotgun and took a hold of her empty pistol. He took a step back and watched her place the hilt of the gun into a space between two of the wooden bars. Resting her foot against the side of the door, Zoey pulled on the gun, doing her best to pry the wood off from the door. When it finally came loose, Zoey found herself stumbling backwards. Francis was there to catch her fall.

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a quick nod before going back to the door. A few moments later, she had loosened another piece of wood, tearing it away from the door. She reached for the doorknob and thanked a God she was sure no longer existed when the door opened forward.

"Go!" She told him.

Francis hesitated for another moment before he listened to her, squeezing through the opening as best as he could. He felt splinters of wood stab his flesh but told himself to ignore it. They had bigger problems on hand.

Francis elbowed the closest zombie, turning back towards the door and calling Zoey out. He took a hold of his shotgun when she handed it to him, and he turned his back to her, armed, as she crawled out through the same opening.

When she emerged on the other side she suddenly wished she had come up with a more solid plan. The horde of undead that had gathered outside of their old safe house was still lurking in the streets. And by the way they turned to watch Zoey and Francis; she knew that they hadn't forgotten about their hungry, desperate need for flesh.

"Shit." Zoey mumbled under her breath, watching the zombies as they lunged towards them with outstretched arms.

"Follow me." Francis instructed. Zoey did as she was told and made no objection, following the man through the crowd of the undead as he hit them with the butt of his gun, clearing the way for the young girl who trailed closely behind him.

She pushed the hands off of her when they reached out and clutched her, determined not to live out her last breaths under their hungry mouths. She wouldn't let them take her, not the way they had taken her parents.

Zoey heard the mighty yell of the tank and was suddenly aware that he had broken free. She moved quickly with Francis, unsure of where he was going but more than willing to put her life in his hands. If there was one thing that he had proven to her it was that he was trustworthy.

"In here!" Francis barked as he pushed open a door.

Zoey ran inside, Francis following suit and quickly slamming the door shut behind them.

"Help me move this." Zoey called out, trying to push a heavy desk towards the door.

Francis placed his shotgun on top of the desk and ran to Zoey's side, giving her his strength to barricade the door as quickly as they could. With a loud clank, the desk was in place and nothing was getting through that door.

_Nothing except that tank._ The voice in the back of Zoey's mind reminded her.

"Get behind me." Francis told her.

Zoey did as she was told and put her back against the wall, Francis standing between her and the door. She could hear her heart beating furiously in her chest and feared that the noise would only draw more of the undead to their door.

The ground started to shake again and Zoey shut her eyes for only a moment. A tear fell from her cheek, falling onto her red sweater. She knew that sound. The tank had managed to free itself and now it was coming to get them.

She swallowed back the lump that swelled in her throat as she opened her eyes to watch the door. The ground shook more and more as the creature approached, as if knowing full well where they had hidden.

"That thing breaks through here, I want you to run."

"What?" Zoey heard him but was having a problem understanding exactly what he meant.

"Run outside, go anywhere, just get the hell away from here. I'll hold him off."

"Francis, you can't. That thing won't die!"

"Everything has to die sometime." _Including us. _Francis lifted his shotgun and took aim.

**Sorry, I know this was a rather short chapter, but I thought I'd get this one out there now while I write the next chapter, which is going to have a lot more going on in it. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten that this is going to be a romance, I'm just building my way to it.**

** Anyways, I hope you forgive me for the short chapter, but have no fear; the next one will make up for it. Thanks so much for reading!**


	6. Safe

It wasn't until that moment that Zoey had realized she was unarmed. Unarmed and now trapped in a dangerous situation. It was enough to make her stomach turn at the mere thought of it. She had tried to be brave since all of this had happened, had tried to tell herself that she would be one of the few survivors to walk away from it all. But with each passing day and all the people she saw succumb to the darkness around her, it grew harder and harder to believe it.

She could hear the undead from beyond the door and tried her best to remain quiet. She clasped both hands over her mouth, terrified that if she didn't she would scream and alert the tank to their safe room.

She watched Francis standing in front of her, his back straight and his shotgun aimed should the creatures outside manage to break their way through the door. She wondered if he was scared of dying, if he had given much thought to how his story would end since the world had become overrun with the undead. If he did, he sure as hell never showed it.

Zoey straightened her back and let her arms fall to her side. She wasn't going to cower in the corner like a child afraid of the dark. She was going to be brave and fight for her life, the same was Francis intended to do. Her father had raised her better than to accept defeat so easily. She had already let him down once; she wouldn't let him down again.

The floor started to shake and Zoey had to constantly reminder herself to remain calm. She saw Francis tense and knew that he heard the tank approaching as well. It was a hard noise to miss, even if it was hard to hear anything over the constant moaning outside the door.

Francis took a step back to brace himself and raised his shotgun, preparing to pull the trigger should the tank burst through the door. The ground shook more violently as the tank approached the safe room and Zoey found her heart beating so furiously she thought it would give out on her.

_If it breaks through, run outside. It didn't seem to run that fast, maybe I can lead it away from Francis._

A sudden slam against the door made both survivors jump. Francis's finger pulled closer to the trigger, prepared to send a bullet into the creature's face the minute it burst through the door. He had to buy time for Zoey to sneak past it and make it outside. She was still young; she had her whole life ahead of her. He had lived many years and was prepared to accept defeat if it meant she would escape from this nightmare. If he was going down, there was no way in hell he was going to take her with him.

Zoey could picture the tank on the other side, slamming its giant fists against the door in a desperate attempt to break through it. She bit her lip and tried to force back the tears that were burning at her eyes. She blinked them away and reminded herself to stay strong and be brave like her father.

The survivors lost track of time and eventually the pounding against the door came to a stop. Francis glanced over his shoulder to look at Zoey before taking a step towards the door, his shotgun still clutched tightly in his grip. He stopped next to the desk when he felt a shaky hand grab his bicep tightly.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper but Francis heard it as though she had shouted in his ear.

"I'm gonna open the door and see if that thing's still out there."

Zoey's mouth fell open in horror. "I'm sorry, you're going to what? Have you never seen a scary movie, Francis? That's _always_ a bad idea."

Francis grunted. He wasn't scared of that thing. Put enough bullets in anything and it'll eventually bring it down. "So what're we supposed to do?"

"We wait. We wait as long as we can in here without food or water. For all we know it's just walking around out there, looking for us. Give it time to wander away from the area. Then, and only then, do we leave this room." The hardness of his features made it hard to give him orders, but they had managed to come this far already. She wasn't going to sit back and let him do something that could bring about both of their ends.

Francis shrugged and walked across the room, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. One hand still held on to his shotgun while he lifted a booted foot up to rest against the wall behind him. Zoey let out a shaky breath and moved back to her spot, sinking to the floor and pulling her knees into her chest. She cradled her chin against her knees and shut her eyes tightly, breathing a sigh of relief.

What was going to happen to them in the next few hours, she had no idea. But right now she knew that they were safe and that would be enough.

"I never thanked you."

"What?"

Zoey tilted her head to look up at Francis. "For what you did back there. Thank you."

Francis knew exactly what she was talking about. _For stopping Danny. _"He didn't…" He let his voice trail off, not wanting to speak the words.

"He didn't, but he was going to. Thank you for stopping him. I know I made you hurt your friend, and I'm sorry."

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry about. He wasn't a friend. We were just always at the same bar at the same time."

"Well, regardless of how you knew him, thank you." How many times had she thanked him now? She felt a bit foolish for thanking someone so much in a span of a minute, but considering what he had saved her from, she was sure she owed him a million more thanks by the time this was all over.

Francis nodded, his eyes studying her face carefully. "How old are you, Zoey?"

A smirk spread across her dry lips. "How old are _you_?"

Francis laughed under his breath. "I asked you first."

A sigh slipped through her lips. "I'm too young to be trapped in a mess like this. You know, a few weeks ago I was in school, ditching every class I could? All I wanted to do was stay home and watch horror movies." She laughed dryly. "I guess you can look at it as preparing myself for what was to come."

"A few weeks ago I was sitting on my favourite barstool in my favourite bar and gettin' shit faced." Francis groaned. That all seemed a million years away now. "How the hell did this happen?"

"I wish I knew," she admitted. "There was no coverage in the news and then all of a sudden people eating other people was all you could hear about. A lot of the news articles online were taken down shortly after going up, so I figured someone had hacked them and was posting nonsense. I guess they weren't."

Francis didn't say anything else. Truthfully, he didn't have anything left to say. Everyone they had loved, everyone they had ever known was most likely dead. For all he knew they were one of the creatures that were waiting for them on the other side of that door. He wondered how shitty would it be to step outside and come face to face with that girl you had a one night stand with and never called the next day. Or to step outside and stare into your best friend's lifeless eyes as they lunged at your throat.

Hours had passed, though how many exactly neither survivor could be sure. Zoey felt the rumble of her stomach and covered it with her hand, as if it would stop the noise from filling the room. Francis heard it from across the room and as if on cue, his stomach joined in. Their mouths were dry and their bodies were growing tired from exhaustion and lack of food and water. He didn't know how much longer they'd last in here, but if he had to choose between starving to death or being ripped into pieces he would take starvation any day.

He had slumped to the floor and happened to glance over at Zoey a short time later. She had tilted her head back so it rested against the wall behind her, her eyes shut tightly. He watched her chest move up and down with slow and steady breaths, and realized she had somehow managed to fall asleep.

He watched her carefully, knowing that no matter how long he stared at her face she would never know. She looked damn young, so young he felt as though he would be considered a pedophile just for being in the same room as her.

Despite all the dirt covering her features, he had to admit that she was a pretty little thing. Her sweater shielded most of her body from his eyes, but he already had a pretty good idea of what lay beneath it. He had seen it all when…_when Danny was trying to rape her. God damn, Francis._

He listened to the scolding voice in his head and groaned under his breath. His free hand reached up to rub his tired eyes when he closed them, frustrated with himself. _She's a kid, you fucking pervert. A kid who was almost raped because you put her in that situation. _

He had no doubt that Danny was dead by now. He had left him unconscious and laying in a pool of his own blood but he had never once regretted what he had done to his drinking buddy. Growing up Francis had seen his mother try to cover up the bruises on her face one too many times. He had heard her screaming and crying in her room, too young and too scared to stop the man who was forcing her against her will. He had always sworn that he would never lay a hand on a woman, and knowing Danny had done so and his intent with Zoey had been enough to drive him mad.

As long as Francis was alive nothing was going to happen to the terrified young girl a few feet away from him. That would be his promise to her, even though she had heard it.

**I hope you guys aren't getting annoyed with how slowly the romance between Francis and Zoey is going, but I want to take my time and build up their story together before I go any further. I just can't picture them immediately jumping into a romantic relationship, and considering Zoey was almost raped so recently, I definitely can't picture her being so willing to throw herself at someone. Give it time, and I promise it will be worth the wait. If you want smut in the meantime, I have a bunch of other stories with nothing but smut, so feel more than free to read those to tide you over.**

** Sorry about taking so long to update, but I really hope this chapter was worth the wait. Don't forget to drop a review, and thanks for reading!**


	7. Can't Catch a Break

** Once again, I want to take the time to thank the wonderful people who reviewed my last chapter. Honestly, with each review I got I found myself smiling and giddy. You guys sure do have a way of making me feel like an amazing writer, and you'll forever have my thanks. I decided to write this next chapter in dedication of you guys, for sticking with this story and for giving me such inspiring words to continue. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist.**

** Thanks a bunch and I hope this chapter is as satisfying as the last.**

_Zoey found her feet planted at the entrance of the apartment she used to share with her family before they fell apart. Her eyes burned as she glanced around her, noticing the ornaments and toys that covered the TV stand. She used to hate what her parents collected and how they had always filled the small two bedroom apartment. She refused to bring friends over throughout high school because she had always been so embarrassed of the clutter that filled the room._

_ Now it all seemed to be a welcomed sight._

_ She took a step further into the apartment, remembering everything that they had once shared as a family. She passed by her father's recliner, his self proclaimed throne. A shaky hand reached out to stroke the fabric as she passed by it and it was then that she realized why her eyes were burning._

_ Tears fell from her eyes and for once she embraced them._

_ She hadn't cried when her parents told her they were getting a divorce when she was sixteen. She hadn't shed a tear when her first boyfriend had broken up with her after two months of a romance you only saw in movies. She had always told herself to be strong, to be more like her father. In all her years she could never remember her father crying. One of her earliest memories was her grandfather's funeral. Zoey was sitting on her cousin's shoulders as he carried her around in the funeral home, trying to distract her from why she was there. She was maybe three or four and would have the memory of her grandfather lying in his open casket as her only memory of him. But she could still remember glancing over to her father, watching him stand beside his sleeping father as he said his final goodbyes without a single tear._

_ Whenever she had wanted to cry, she always reminded herself of how strong he was. And somehow, no matter what was going on in her life, she managed to hold back the tears._

_ But not right now. She let them stream down her cheeks as she moved further into the apartment. She called out, her voice raspy and shaky, but no one answered. Zoey walked further into the apartment, finding herself standing in front of the dinning room table she had always avoided when it came to dinnertime. Standing there now, she couldn't even remember the last time she had sat down to dinner with her parents when they were all still living together, when they were still a family._

_ It was sad, really, how she had to lose so much to suddenly appreciate it all._

_ She heard movement from behind her and glanced up, the cabinet glass behind the table acting as a mirror. She saw her parents standing behind her, warm smiles on their faces, and instantly she spun around._

_ But when she saw them, it wasn't her loving parents she saw standing before her. It was their half eaten, torn up bodies. She watched them lunge for her and opened her mouth, a loud scream slipping through her lips as she felt their hungry fingertips dig into the skin of her shoulders._

Zoey awoke abruptly and found herself staring into the face of Francis. One hand was pressed tightly against her mouth, the other hand digging into her shoulder as he tried to keep her in place.

"Shut up." He warned her through gritted teeth.

She nodded frantically and let a breath slip through her lips when he finally released her. She was still shaking when he stood over her, moving back towards the desk to retrieve his shotgun. Zoey watched him in silence as he checked the number of shells that remained in the gun before snapping it shut again.

She staggered to her feet, pulling her sweater down as she tried to gather herself. She cocked her head towards the door. "Are they still out there?"

Francis shrugged, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. She looked terrified. Francis wondered for a moment what she had been dreaming about but had decided it was better not to ask her about it. The poor kid had been through enough already. "I haven't heard anything for a while. Maybe that thing's gone."

"How long have I been asleep?" If there was a God Francis's answer would be something along the lines of, 'a few days, the army is out there to take us to a more secure place.'

"A few hours, I'd say. Kinda hard to know for sure without a watch and all."

Nope. Definitely no God.

"Are we going back out there?" She was almost afraid to hear his answer.

"Unless you plan to stay in here and starve to death."

How did she know he was going to say something along those lines? She wanted to argue that staying put would benefit them, that it would buy them the time they needed to come up with a solid plan before throwing themselves back out there. But when her stomach argued with her and told her to shut up and follow the older man, she knew it was no use. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten and her stomach liked to remind her of that constantly. Hell, at this point she would even eat a salad.

Zoey shrugged off her defeat. "What's the plan?"

"We have to get out of the area, that's for sure. If there are any vampires still out there, I'll take care of 'em. Stay behind me and watch your back." He paused for a moment before he finished his thought. "Watch _our _backs."

Zoey's eyes scanned around the room, searching for something, _anything_, that she could brandish as a weapon. For whatever reason if she wasn't able to call out fast enough or to see the threat before it was too close to stop it, she needed something to defend herself. To defend Francis.

Without saying a word she walked over to a slab of wood resting against the corner of the wall. She picked it up and moved back to stand beside Francis. She placed her piece of wood on the desk beside his shotgun and helped him slide the desk away from the door. When it they were satisfied with where it sat in the room, both survivors picked up their weapons and made a move towards the door, Francis leading the way in silence.

He held a gloved hand on the doorknob and took in a deep breath to ready himself for the horde that waited outside. _Keep her safe. No matter what happens, keep her safe._ He listened to the voice in his head and slowly nudged the door open, ready to take out the closed creature to them.

But when he finally managed to push it open he found they were alone. The door was heavier than before and he couldn't understand why until he cautiously stepped outside. There were rotting bodies all over, scattered over the floor as if they had fallen from the sky. He crinkled his nose at the smell that surrounded him as Zoey joined him on the other side of the door.

She glanced back at the door after it had been shut and saw the dent marks and the splatters of blood that covered it. "The tank was throwing them against the door. It killed all of them for us." She silently thanked the beast that had tried to kill her hours before. It wasn't pretty, but it had done their job for them.

"Where are we going?" She asked, turning back to Francis. They were safe for now, but in a world like this, there was no guarantee that it would last for much longer than a few minutes. They needed to come up with some sort of plan, somewhere they could go where they could rest. Somewhere with food and water.

"There's gotta be some other survivors out here, somewhere. We just gotta find 'em. They're probably in hiding."

Zoey nodded. "But until then, we need a plan." She reminded him. She was an expert when it came to these things. As far as she was concerned she had watched enough movies to declare herself so. And they had not come this far to end up dead like those stupid, annoying characters in the films she had always spent so much time watching.

"We keep movin'." Francis had said it so casually Zoey had to remind herself that this wasn't a normal situation. They weren't stumbling around, looking for the next place to go on a Friday night. They were searching for somewhere they could hole up, for however long they needed to, and still be able to ward off the undead that sought after them so desperately. "Don't worry. We've got this."

Zoey nodded again and reminded herself to trust Francis. He had beaten his friend and left him in a pool of his own blood to be eaten by the undead that had no doubt stormed the place shortly after their departure. He had given up his drinking buddies and his safe haven to protect her and keep her out of harms way. The most she could do was trust him and follow his lead. She owed him that much.

They started moving but hadn't been able to get more than a few metres from the safe room before they heard a shrill scream fill the air around them. Both of the survivors froze, their eyes scanning the open area that surrounded them to identify the threat.

It didn't sound human. Not anymore, at least. It had sounded almost like an animal, letting out a terrifying screech as it chased after its prey. It sounded like a hunter and they were marked as the hunted.

Zoey turned her back to Francis, pressing herself up against him as she tried to find the creature that let out the horrid sound. No matter where she looked, she couldn't see anything. And instead of comforting her, instead of making her feel as though the sound was only in her head any nothing more, it only made her more terrified. Not being able to identify a threat was possibly one of the worst situations they could find themselves in.

The next thing she knew was that she was being thrown to the ground. Her plank of wood had fallen out of her grasp and had been tossed away from her, too far for her to reach out and grab. She heard frantic screaming from behind her and stumbled onto her feet. The wind had been knocked out of her and she found herself struggling to breathe as she watched something straddle Francis's chest, its claws frantically scratching at his skin.

"Francis!"

Her dark eyes shot to the shotgun that had fallen from his grip and Zoey made no hesitation as she ran for it. When she was able to get a steady hold of it, she closed the distance between herself and Francis and turned the gun so she was striking the creature with the butt of it.

It slammed against the side of the creature's head and it fell off of Francis, colliding with the floor. It squirmed, twitching as it tried to regain its footing so it could finish what it started. But Zoey tightened her grip on the shotgun and slammed the handle of the gun into the creature's head until it finally stopped moving.

"Are you okay?" She cried, running to Francis's side and falling to her knees.

She saw the cuts across his chest that had ripped through the fabric of his white shirt and immediately panicked. She had seen this before, in too many movies and video games to name. He was infected and sooner or later he was going to turn. He was going to become one of them.

Zoey swallowed the bile that rose in the back of her throat and cradled his head in her arms. He opened his eyes narrowly and forced a smile her way.

"If that little pussy thought that was going to kill me, he's going to be really disappointed. I'm indestructible."

Zoey laughed under her breath and looked back to the safe room. That was their best bet right now. No matter how hungry they were they couldn't risk continuing. Not with Francis so torn up and on the brink of becoming one of them. He didn't deserve to die out here by himself. If he was going to die tonight he was going to die in closed quarters with Zoey there to put the final bullet in him.

"Get up, Francis. We're going back."

She had to help him to his feet and eventually she was able to carry his weight and hold the shotgun in her free hand as they staggered back towards the safe room. She closed the door behind them and sat him down against the wall before she set the shotgun down on the desk and pushed it to block the door. She struggled, but she had managed to do it regardless.

Only when the door was secure did she turn her attention back to Francis. Zoey knelt down in front of him and tried to get a better look at the wounds that had torn his chest nearly wide open. They let out a sharp breath when she realized how deep they were.

She wasn't a doctor or a nurse; she couldn't have been further from it. But it didn't take a medical degree to know that wounds like that wouldn't heal on their own. His only hope was if she could manage to somehow stitch up his torn body the best she could.

Zoey had seen enough movies to have a general idea of what to do. The only problem on had was whether the tools she needed were in the room or not.

She got to her feet and began to search for a needle and thread of some kind. She cursed under her breath after she had searched the entire room and came up empty. Of course it wouldn't be here. This wasn't a movie, this was real life. And if she had learned anything in all her years it was that real life never goes as smoothly as a movie plot.

Zoey glanced over her shoulder and eyed the door. There was only one way Francis was going to live long enough to turn. She wasn't about to let him bleed out. He was going to turn, that much she was sure of, but until he did, the least she could do was try and make his last few hours comfortable before the virus set in.

She walked back to Francis's side and knelt down, resting a shaky hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to look up at her through tired eyes, studying her face carefully.

"I'm going to be right back, okay Francis? I need to find something to close those wounds; otherwise you're going to bleed out. Stay awake and I'll be back before you know it." She assured him in a low voice.

He didn't say anything so she got to her feet and turned to walk away. She stopped when she felt his gloved hand grab hers, holding her firmly in place in front of him.

"You go out there you're never comin' back."

Zoey forced a smile and put on a brave face. "I'll be back before you know it."


End file.
